


I could never forget your face

by letsgetalittleseethrough



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: AU - parallel universe, F/M, Strangers to Lovers (kinda), no one remembers Charlotte
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgetalittleseethrough/pseuds/letsgetalittleseethrough
Summary: She staggered out of the upturned carriage - and was she dying or dreaming? because the arms she stumbled straight into could only belong to him-She stared at him, and how she was sure she did not know, but it hit her like a headache in the soul:There was not a flicker of familiarity in his eyes. Somehow, he had no idea who she was.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Comments: 294
Kudos: 153





	1. World Upturned

**Author's Note:**

> I have A LOT of feelings about Sanditon... this could be classed as a fix-it of sorts, maybe.

One minute, she was thinking of the man who had come into her life only to turn it upside down and rifle through its entire contents, and the next the driver shouted, the horses whinnied, and the sea became the sky-

\---

She staggered out of the upturned carriage - and was she dying or dreaming? because the arms she stumbled straight into could only belong to him-

“There, now, you’re quite safe.” He held her long enough for her to steady her feet, and then let go, his face so open with concern that she couldn’t hold back the tears that had only stopped due to sheer terror. _Maybe he does love me_ \- _oh, but what use is it, Charlotte? What use is love?_

He eyed the tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’ve had quite the shock. Please, Sanditon is not far from here. My brother and his wife - I’m sure they will be delighted to offer you some tea whilst you recover.” 

He must have been correct about the shock - he was sounding quite strange, and that had to be down to the distress of what had just occurred. 

“I just want to go home,” she sobbed, the events of recent days that she had tried to bury hitting her fully, catching up to her like an avalanche, and he placed a hand on her arm and began making soothing promises about fulfilling her wish, all the while gently steering her towards his horse. What he was planning didn’t sink in, until it did, and she began to vigorously shake her head. 

“I cannot ride with you, please-” 

He looked perplexed, and she hated him for it. “Very well. The driver is concussed, and I was going to fetch the doctor. You could wait here, and I will fetch another carriage for you also?”  
  


Half tempted to sod it all and just walk back to Willingden, she nodded briefly anyway, avoiding his eyes. 

His hand was back on her arm again. “I won’t be long, Miss-?” 

She stared at him, and how she was sure she did not know, but it hit her like a headache in the soul: 

There was not a flicker of familiarity in his eyes. Somehow, he had no idea who she was. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



	2. (Re)Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the incredible response to chapter 1! when will Charlotte start to get some answers?

She watched him leave, her stomach feeling as though it was walking a tightrope. Then there was little else to do but check on the driver herself (still breathing, thank the Lord), and sit down on the grass with her thoughts. 

Perhaps Sidney was playing a joke - just not a very funny one! Or perhaps this was his way of cutting her off completely - by pretending they had never been acquainted. 

She put her head in her hands. It made no sense! 

But soon she would be back with Tom and Mary - maybe they would be able to explain his behaviour. To think that just before the carriage fell she had been wondering if she’d ever visit Sanditon again - clearly, the answer was to be “Yes”. 

\---

Charlotte exited the carriage and nearly fell into Sidney’s arms once more - for he was waiting right outside the door. 

“Are you-” he began, but the door to Tom Parker’s house opened, the man himself threw his arms wide in his classic way of welcome, and, striding across to meet them, cried: 

“Sidney! Bring her in, she must have had a nasty scare. Mary is seeing to the tea right this instant.” Tom looked at Charlotte with a wide, but impersonal smile. “Welcome, my dear. I hear my brother was in the right place at the right time! I do hope you are not hurt - I hurt my own ankle you see, in a carriage accident of my own not too long back.” A frown crossed his face. “A nasty business…”

“You talk too much, brother,” Sidney said in a faintly irritated voice, but Charlotte barely heard him. She and Sidney went inside the house. 

She was reeling: Tom didn’t recognise her either - Sidney must have put him up to it- 

“...It is delightful to make your acquaintance, though I am sorry for the circumstances,” Tom finished, as they sat down in the parlour, and Charlotte could take it no more-

“Really, Mr. Parker,” she spluttered, “there is no need to pretend you do not know who I am!” 

Sidney once again looked perplexed. “Do you know her, Tom?” 

Tom glanced at his brother with what Charlotte felt was a forced smile. “Well, she certainly seems to know me!” He studied her for a second, and then seemed to light up, and Charlotte felt the tension leave her body-

“Pray forgive me! You must be one of Lady Susan’s friends! We must have met at the Regatta, really, I am so very sorry, Miss-?” 

“Heywood,” Charlotte answered helplessly, for it had occurred to her that this could not be a game of the brothers’: how were they to know her carriage would overturn and she would be forced back to Sanditon? And yet, what could possibly explain them not knowing who she was?

Something else occurred to her, and she said, “Mr. Parker, if it’s alright - who was there for _you_ when you hurt your ankle? I was... quite lucky to come across your brother.” 

As luck would have it (Charlotte reflected that luck generally had _not_ been on her side lately), Tom seemed happy to answer. 

“We were passing through this quaint little village, Mary and I, and fate herself shone down upon us, Miss Heywood, because a dear girl from that same village had seen our carriage crash - I’m afraid the driver was going much too fast, ah, where was I, ah yes… and she insisted that we stay with her! A delightful girl.” A shadow of sadness passed across his face. “Such a shame that-” 

“Mary is here with the tea,” Sidney announced, and all at once Charlotte could not bear to look at her, if it meant being on the receiving end of that same blank, unfamiliar look- 

“This is Miss Heywood, dear, a friend of Lady Susan’s,” Tom was saying, and despite herself Charlotte looked up- 

Mary greeted her with a warm smile, and, once the tea tray was taken from her arms, a big hug. But Charlotte, who had grown to know her very well over the course of her stay, felt that both the smile and embrace were cold compared to what she was used to.

“Hello, Miss Heywood,” Mary said, and Charlotte had to fight her own heart as it danced in terror in her chest, because _what on earth was going on?_ “I do hope you’ll stay a couple of days to regain your strength? Sanditon is a wonderful place, and-” 

“A _couple of days?_ ” Tom exclaimed. “Nonsense, Mary!” He winked at Charlotte. “I shall let you in on a little secret-” 

“ _Tom,_ ” Mary warned, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand-

“Next month we are to have a carnival! You must come along! There will be the greatest fortune-teller known to man - she knows your past, present and future, your wishes and deepest darkest secrets! It will be the most fun you’ve ever had, I’m sure!” 

Charlotte’s mind drifted back to the burnt row of houses, the death of Issac Stringer, and before she could help herself she blurted out, “But, Mr. Parker - how on earth will you afford it?” 

Three sets of eyes blinked at her, Tom letting out an awkward laugh, Mary looking shocked, Sidney’s eyes narrowing. 

“You know much of my brother’s finances, Miss Heywood?” the latter said with an edge to his voice. 

Charlotte coloured and lowered her eyes. “F-forgive me - I did not mean to-” 

“Carnivals can be very expensive, it is true,” Tom said graciously, taking a sip of tea, “but nothing but the best for Sanditon! Will you have your fortune told, your past explained, your future predicted?” 

Mary rolled her eyes, and Sidney’s own had glazed over after hearing what must have been a well-practised speel. 

Charlotte’s head hurt. She had only left Sanditon that morning, and she was sure there had been no talk of a carnival!

  
_I’d like to see the fortune-teller explain all this_ , she thought to herself hysterically. _Let her try her best!_


	3. Evil On The Roof

She made small talk with Tom and Mary as long as she could bear - which wasn't long. Hearing Mary talk about her children as if Charlotte did not know them, or hearing Tom explain sea bathing in excruciating detail- 

"She must be exhausted, Tom," Mary finally cut in, in the middle of him explaining the thrill of the cold water for the fifth time. "Come, Charlotte, you should write to your father and explain that you shall be staying with us."

Fear gripped Charlotte with sharp, dirty nails: what if her own family had forgotten who she was also? 

Tom leaned in, concern written on his face. "My dear, you appear to have come over all pale. Is something the matter?"

"I-I shall go write to my father," Charlotte managed, getting up from the table and remembering at the last minute to ask, "Is there a place where I may do that?"

She was shown to the very room she had stayed in these past two months. It looked exactly the same to her eyes - she was not sure whether that was cause for relief or not. 

Trying to breathe in deep (lest she forget to breathe at all), she noticed that amongst her dresses and other items that Hill - at least she presumed it was Hill - had laid out for her, there was a pile of letters. Charlotte barely dared to hope. Could they be from her sister? 

Yes, it was her sister's handwriting! She read the first letter in the pile: her sister was asking how she found Sanditon. It was dated two days after her- after her "first" arrival. 

_The real arrival_ , she reminded herself. Whatever was happening now could very well all be a dream. She hoped it was. 

It was then that she noticed a strange thing - it had occurred to her the second she picked up the letter, but had sat in her mind unanalysed as the relief of seeing her sister's words overtook all else. 

The letter looked aged, old. The paper had yellowed slightly, and one word here or there had faded, as if they had been written long ago. 

The dirty claws of fear were back. Charlotte shivered. She couldn't stay in this house any longer. 

\--- 

Mary insisted on accompanying her down to the seafront ( _what had you expected?_ she scolded herself. _She thinks you are a stranger to this town…_ )

They were to leave the house together, but one feel of the breeze had Mary darting back inside for a change of hat, and Charlotte was left alone on the street. Almost fearful of what she would see, she tore her eyes from the Parkers' door and- 

Locked eyes with Isaac Stringer. It was a wonder she did not cry out - the first reason being that he was _alive_ (he was alive!), she second being that he was so badly burnt down one side of his face as to cause anyone to reflexively react in shock. 

They stared at each other, and then he came limping over with a speed that surprised her, and she found she could not move a single limb as he jabbed a finger against her collar bone and whispered in a voice full of rage, " _You- you are in the wrong place_!" 

Charlotte took a step back and found herself right up against the door, trapped- 

"Father? Oh, Miss, I am most sorry!" 

Mr. Stringer came running into view. "Father, you cannot go scaring nice young ladies! I _am_ sorry, Miss…" 

"It's alright," Charlotte said, though this was far from the truth. 

"She is _not-_ " Isaac Stringer spat, red in the non-scarred part of his face. "She is _not-_ " 

Mr. Stringer gave Charlotte an apologetic look, steering his father a little further away from her. "He hasn't been right since the fire, Miss. Says the oddest of things. But I assure you he means no harm." 

Charlotte managed a tight smile. 

"I haven't seen you round these parts before, Miss. Are you down from London?" 

"Something like that," Charlotte managed, the shock of seeing Isaac Stringer so great that her own predicament lessened in distress. 

_I wonder what is keeping Mary_ , she wondered, but any further thoughts were cut off when Isaac Stringer let out a cry of pain, a shaking finger pointing to the roof of Tom's house- 

"There's nothing there, Father," Mr. Stringer said, with the air of someone who'd had to offer this reassurance before, and though Charlotte believed him she still turned and craned her neck up to look- 

Her breath caught in her throat, an injured bird trying to escape a cat. On the roof was- 

Something _hideous_. A shadow, but one that was alive and dark and evil. Sometimes it flickered and took on a warped imitation of human form, others it glimmered and looked like nothing Charlotte had ever seen. 

_Am I staring at the devil? Lord forgive me-_

"She does not belong!" Isaac Stringer shouted. " _She. Does. Not. Belong-_ " 

The shadow creature shifted, and Charlotte, suddenly convinced that it was making to leap right at her, could take it no longer- 

She swayed on her feet, and the world went dark. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the creature Charlotte sees on the roof is inspired by the Doctor Who episode "Father's Day" - if you're unfamiliar with the episode it's definitely worth watching! 
> 
> thanks for all the amazing comments, kudos and follows so far <33


	4. Expectations, Maybes and Perhapses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter than yesterday but I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> thanks again for all your wonderful comments <33

When she awoke, everyone else was sleeping. It seemed quite fitting, to do what everyone else was not - as Isaac Stringer had said, she was clearly Wrong with a capital “W”. 

She half expected to have an aching head, but nothing had attacked her after all, and just before she lost consciousness her last thought had been of the arms that were holding her. Those arms were unlikely to have been Sidney’s, much more likely Mr. Stringer’s, but since she kept falling into Sidney’s arms who was to say? 

Answers, she wasn’t sure she wanted them. Mr. Stringer hadn’t seen the- the  _ wicked thing _ that had sat atop the Parker’s house, but Isaac Stringer had. Talking to him, would that bring any clarity? He clearly thought her out of place here. 

She lay there in the dark. To whom could she confide, seek comfort? If no one knew who she was, then there was no one here who could possibly understand, let alone believe her. She should ignore Tom’s talk of a carnival and head straight back to Willingden as soon as Mary would allow. 

But to leave things as they were… She sat up straighter. No. She had to make this right. 

Perhaps it was all a punishment for desiring Sidney so badly. Perhaps perhaps perhaps… 

She expected a challenge in getting back to sleep, but the second her eyes closed she drifted off, and dreamt of the carriage falling, falling, falling- 

\---

The next morning, Dr. Fuchs was sent into her room what felt like seconds after the Parkers realised she was awake. 

“Ah, hallo, Fräulein. I hear you have been through the wars, ja?” 

“I am feeling  _ much _ better,” Charlotte tried to reassure everyone (not daring to breathe a word of the apparition she had seen), but Dr. Fuchs’ word was final: she must spend the day in bed. 

Mary fussed, and Tom alternated between expressing concern and trying to tell her more about the carnival, and the children tried to sneak into her room, and Sidney apparently enquired after her (she could not make out her feelings about him not actually coming to see her, but she had to remind herself with an aching heart that she was a stranger to him - to all of them-)... and then she was left alone. 

In some way it was a blessing to stay inside, for it felt like she could come to no harm in the Parker’s house. But there were questions to be answered, a mystery to be unravelled… 

Sidney had enquired after her once more at dinner, Mary reported. 

Charlotte stared at the book in her hands, and Mary looked down as if she had forgotten she was holding it. 

“Oh! Sidney expressed his wish that I should give this to you. Here - it can give you something to occupy the rest of your day, at least.” 

Mary handed her the book. Charlotte turned it over in her hands. She felt her eyebrows shoot up her face as she read the blurb. 

“I do hope he has not given you inappropriate reading material?” Mary asked jokingly. 

Charlotte forced a smile. “Oh, no, no.” She glanced back down at the book. “I just- I never expected S- Mr. Parker to be a romantic, you see.” 

Mary looked shocked for a second, but then composed herself - mostly. “He has given you a romance novel? Mr. Parker may surprise you yet, Charlotte.” Her gaze softened. “Now, I must say goodnight, and put the children to bed.” 

After she left, Charlotte stared once more at Sidney’s book, and then opened it. There was a note tucked into the first page: 

_ A recommendation from my ward, Miss Lambe. She has expressed wishes of meeting you, if you are to stay in Sanditon awhile. _

_ My best wishes for your quick recovery. _

_ Yours, Sidney Parker. _

Heart beating hard, she turned to the first chapter: 

_ It was a fine night, and Evanstone House was a fine building, but its occupant was not in such a fine mood. Christopher Arun stared moodily at the ceiling of his room. What a set of opinions that young woman had! She had most certainly ruined the ball for him.  _

_ Insulting his family was never to be forgiven, he decided. Even if she did have the most striking face- _

Heart beating even harder, Charlotte let the book drop to her bedcovers. She took a minute to recover, and then re-read Sidney’s note. 

Georgiana had chosen this book for her. Its very first words made her think of the first ball she had attended at Sanditon, where she and Sidney had crossed paths and he had spoken such cross words after thinking her speak ill of Tom. 

Georgiana. Maybe she held the answers. Tomorrow, Charlotte would pay her a visit. 


	5. The Rhyme and The Voice

Waiting in the parlour for Georgiana to appear, Charlotte felt the sharp, dirty nails of fear claw at her once more. Isaac Stringer was alive - what change could there be to Georgiana? Without Charlotte in her life, what had happened between her and Otis? Who had saved her from forced marriage? 

But Georgiana entered the parlour seeming to be in good spirits, and she was kind enough to Charlotte as a person might be when they did not know the other. 

“We will be in my room,” Georgiana told Mrs Griffiths, who to Charlotte’s surprise only smiled in acceptance. 

“Thank you for the book,” Charlotte said, once they were sat on Georgiana’s bed. 

Georgiana only stared at her. 

Charlotte let out a nervous laugh. “Is-” 

“Forgive me,” Georgiana said, seeming to come out of a daze. “You just-” She shook her head, hard. “No matter. Would you like to hear a song my nurse used to sing to me in Antigua?” 

It was an odd remark, but Charlotte was living an odd existence, so she merely nodded and tried to smile. 

Georgiana began to sing: 

_Where you did wish for things not to be_

_Is where you must return_

_For now you will see this is not what you wished_

_A lesson you have learned_

_You fell from a height, your world it was shaken_

_Is this a new world, or are you mistaken?_

_You must go back to where your foundation_

_Was overturned_

_A lesson you have learned_

_She loved him so much but it was not to be_

_He told her it could, she said tearfully_

_“You have made your choice_

_Now I no longer wish to hear your voice”_

_She loved him so much but it was not to be_

_She had a thought and changed history_

_Now, child, what will you do?_

_Will you stay in this world or walk straight through?_

_Where do you belong?_

_And so ends my song…._

A frown appeared on her face, her eyes distant. “I don’t know why I thought it important to share…” 

Charlotte shivered. _She had a thought and changed history_? 

_It is just a song for children_ , she reminded herself. _You are seeing patterns where there is only blankness._

“Sidney cares for you,” Georgiana said suddenly. Charlotte felt her throat close up. 

“He… he does?” 

Her former friend rolled her eyes, seeming much more like the young woman Charlotte had known. “He is feeling pressure to marry, I expect.” 

In a surprisingly strong voice Charlotte asked, “He is not engaged?” 

Georgiana’s gaze was piercing. “I should have known you’d feel affection for him too.” She sighed theatrically. “Now, shall we take a stroll across the clifftop?” 

\---

Charlotte had never appreciated before quite how high the clifftops were. _Still_ , she tried to reassure herself, _short of jumping off, it would be hard to fall that distance-_

The carriage ride now felt like a dream, like something that had happened to someone else. What was really real? 

She kept her mind off unanswerable questions by asking Georgiana about Antigua... and then, as carefully as she could, mentioned that to her Georgiana seemed bitten by the bug of love. 

Her friend’s face lit up, and Charlotte was treated to a similar passionate speech about Otis Molyneux as was delivered the day of their picnic. 

But Charlotte suddenly found she could not concentrate. They were nearing the spot half a mile or so away where the carriage had overturned, where she had sat waiting for Sidney to fetch another (half expecting it to never come, to be alone on the clifftop forever…), and Georgiana murmured, “ _Go closer_.” 

Charlotte turned her head so fast she nearly suffered whiplash. “What did you say?” 

Georgiana blinked at her. “I was talking about the last letter I received from Otis. Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

Apologising, Charlotte looked out to that spot on the clifftop. _Run… Go closer… You must go back to where your foundation was overturned… Where you did wish for things not to be_ _is where you must return...._

_Am I going mad?_ was Charlotte’s last sensible thought. Then she started running. 

\---

The minute Charlotte reached the patch of clifftop where her life had changed forever, it began to rain. 

Perhaps rain is the wrong word - the sky immediately turned the blackest of black, and the rain was enough to drown a man. Faintly, Charlotte could hear Georgiana calling for her. _What do I do now? I am back at the foundation! Do I wish anew? I don’t even remember wishing the last time…_

Closing her eyes, Charlotte wished. But in her weakness, in the truth of her heart, she did not ask for a reversal of the past three days. 

Instead, feeling cold and alone and afraid, she wished that Sidney would be hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh Charlotte...


	6. A Letter From Your Father/ Dreams Pt.I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting early this morning because I'm out for the day - hope you enjoy as always!

“I have a letter from your father.” 

Charlotte took the letter from Mary with a bemused smile - she did not remember actually writing to him. 

“I have been called to Lady Denham’s this afternoon,” Mary went on. “She wishes to meet you, Charlotte.” 

Charlotte smiled again. Mary smiled back - a sad smile. 

“I am afraid you are out of spirits - the rain came down so hard yesterday! Sanditon in the summer is usually a very pleasantly warm climate.” 

“I am alright, I assure you,” Charlotte said (in a not very convincing voice). “I just… I keep thinking about the carriage ride.” 

She stared at the letter in her hand. It  _ was _ her father’s handwriting. 

“Try your hardest to put it out of your mind,” Mary urged gently. “If you are feeling up to it, you could play with the children? I find their innocence and playfulness always lifts my mood.” 

Charlotte agreed, and Mary left the room. Moving to her bed, Charlotte opened the letter: 

_ Dear Charlotte, _

_ Those shoes do most suit you, my dear! What a unique colour! Where did you say you purchased them again?  _

_ You must wear them to the ball! Though I do wonder when another will be held…  _

_ Your loving father,  _

_ Arthur Heywood _

__

So many riddles! She fought the urge to stamp her foot like a child. 

Yesterday, she had wished for Sidney, above all else…  _ perhaps I should have been careful what I wished for... _

\---

“Miss Heywood,” Sidney called, because of course their paths had to cross! 

“Mr. Parker,” Charlotte returned. “We are on our way to Lady Denham’s.” It was then that she noticed the purple shadows under his eyes. “Are you alright, Mr. Parker?” 

The words came out tender and soft, but he did not seem to notice. “Do you ever have dreams, Miss Heywood?” 

“Dreams?” 

He nodded. “Every night, I dream of-” He stopped, as if remembering her company. “I just wish that I could get some rest.” 

Before she could think better of it, she touched his arm. “I hope you sleep well tonight, Mr. Parker.” 

He managed a smile. “Thank you. I do too.” 

“Charlotte?” Mary called, and, when Charlotte turned back in his direction, he was gone. 

\---

The visit to Lady Denham’s was quite uneventful. They must all have thought her quite rude, because sadness at needing to explain the most basic details of her life once more caused her to give briefer answers than she might usually have done. 

She was happy to see Ester Babington so happy, at least. Let  _ someone _ in this town have the happiness they deserved. 

Returning to her room to dress before dinner, she reflected once more on Georgiana’s words. First, there was the strange song, lines of which she had sworn she had heard upon the clifftop. Then there was the news that Sidney was not engaged to Eliza - to anyone. That  _ had  _ made her heart lift out of its stupor. 

However… could Sidney fall for her a second time, when she knew so much of him, in a way he could never understand? Would he even  _ want _ to fall in love with her… 

Sombre, she went down to dinner. 

\---

At dinner, Tom once more talked incessantly of the carnival. 

“I have reason to believe, thanks to a very generous investor, that we may be able to bring it forward by two whole weeks!” He glanced around the table, grinning. “Is that not brilliant news?”

“I’m very happy for you, Mr. Parker,” Charlotte said, once more secretly wondering how he could afford it without Eliza’s money. Perhaps she was willing to give it without also having Sidney? 

“Do you have any lady investors, Mr. Parker?” she asked, as politely as possible. 

Tom opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on the door. It was a horrible sort of knock - frantic, the kind that can only mean bad news. Mary went to answer the door with a worried expression, and when she came back that expression was worsened tenfold. 

“It’s Sidney,” she whispered. “Charlotte - he insists on seeing you.” 

Charlotte inhaled sharply. Next to her, Tom let out a laugh. “You appear to have caught his interest, Charlotte. Showing up so suddenly! Why, one might think that-” 

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Mary cut in, pulling her husband up out of his seat by the arm just as Sidney entered the dining room. 

“Miss Heywood,” Sidney said, but did not bow his head. He looked haunted. 

“Mr. Parker! Whatever is the matter?” 

She was by his side in an instant. 

He reached for her hand, and she was helpless to do anything but let him take it in his own. 

“Miss Heywood - Charlotte.” He swallowed. “I must apologise for this odd request, but for some reason I believe you will humour me.” He stared at her for one second, two. “May I tell you about my dreams?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the interest so far! 
> 
> I'm quite new to the Sanditon fandom - is there a place (Tumblr, discord etc.) where people go to talk fan stuff? If so I'd love to be a part of it :))


	7. Dreams Pt.II/ Shoes Most Puzzling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my friend theintelligenthufflepuff for helping with this chapter <33

She led him to a seat at the table, for he seemed incapable of moving himself. 

“You can confide in me anything you wish,” she told him earnestly, sitting down beside him. 

He looked at her in a daze, and then his hand reached up to cup her cheek, and she inhaled sharply once more. 

  
“Forgive me.” And yet he did not remove his hand. 

“Your dreams, Mr. Parker?” she prompted, feeling shivery for reasons that went beyond his touch. 

“I dream of us, Miss Heywood,” he told her, straight to the point as always. 

“Oh?” she said, and it sounded breathless. 

He stared at her. “I feel so drawn to you…. Why? We barely know each other.” 

“What do you dream of? What do we do in your dreams?” 

He coloured, and, catching where his mind must have gone, she followed seconds later. 

“Oh- I-” 

“They are not _all_ of that nature, I assure you,” he said quickly, looking pained and more embarrassed than she had ever seen him. “Though there is something very loving about the way- forgive me. You must think me crass and indecent.” 

She couldn’t bring herself to speak. 

After an awkward silence, he continued, “I dream of us together, Charlotte. Our future. Our lives, intertwined.” His gaze left hers, left the room. He was thinking of something she could not see. “These dreams, they feel so damned real, it drives me-” 

He turned back to her as if she held all the answers to everything he had ever wondered. “ _Tell me you dream them too_.” His hand left her face, and the other moved upwards, so that both were clutching her own hands tight. “Tell me you dream of us too.” 

Heart breaking, she shook her head. “I do not.” 

He looked heartbroken also. “I see. I-” He stood up abruptly, pulling his hands away. “Forgive me. You must think me- I shall take up no more of your time.” 

She watched as he made to leave the room. “Wait!” 

He turned, raised a brow. “You do not have to offer me words of pity, Miss Heywood.” 

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Let me speak first, you ridiculous man-” 

He looked surprised, and then laughed. “Pray, then, do go on.” 

“You’ll want to be sitting down again first.” 

And once they were both seated, she told him everything. 

\--- 

He asked questions here or there, brows knitting together when he learned of Georgiana going missing, of Isaac Stringer's death, of- 

_"Engaged to Eliza? Leaving you heartbroken like that?"_

Charlotte nodded, tears filling her eyes at the memory of their last meeting. 

Sidney scooped her onto his lap, and Charlotte's head swam with his touch. He rested his forehead against hers. "How could I?" He said. "I could never…" 

"You believe me?" Charlotte sniffed. "You do not think me mad, spinning tall tales?"

When he spoke next, she could feel his breath on her face. "What you say is ludicrous, that is true. But what of me, dreaming of marital bliss with a woman I have known three whole days? And my dreams…" a frown appeared, and she had to fight the desire to kiss it away- "my dreams feel so real." 

"Is it possible," he continued, gripping her tighter (consciously or unconsciously she did not know), "that you know of our past, and me of our future?" 

She was silent a moment. "That could very well be true! Then we just have to figure out the present together." 

He looked at her so tenderly that her heart ached, and she had to remove herself from his lap for fear of what she might do. 

"Your friend Lady Susan is throwing a ball in London," Sidney said once she was seated next to him, after a not-uncomfortable silence. "Tom has talked of you to her am I sure, so I am sure it would cause no offence if you were to accompany me tomorrow." His eyes were soft and loving. "We could talk, and dance, and each reacquaint ourselves with the other. What do you think?"

It took all she had to not throw her arms around his neck. "I would like that very much, Mr. Parker."

"Please," he said softly, hand cupping her face once more, "call me Sidney."

\--- 

Readying herself to dress for the ball, she had the sudden idea of wearing the very same shoes she had worn to her first ball in Sanditon - the one where she and Sidney had argued so terribly. _Perhaps I shall have better luck this time around…_

As she went to lift the shoes out of her case, a sudden feeling of dread overtook her. She paused, feeling that perhaps she better take up the offer of new shoes that Mary had given instead. But that was ridiculous! 

_Really, Charlotte_ , she told herself, _it is just a pair_ _of shoes…_

And then she lifted them out and a look of utter confusion came onto her face. 

She could see her hand through the material of the shoes, which seemed utterly devoid of colour, and yet shimmered with a beetle's iridescence. Her father's letter came back to her: 

_Those shoes do most suit you, my dear! What a unique colour! Where did you say you purchased them again?_

Setting aside the issue of how on earth her father would know anything at all about her shoes, she called for Hill. 

"Oh, Miss!" Hill gasped, upon seeing the shoes in her hands. "What a beautiful colour! I have never seen such a pretty red!" 

Charlotte felt the beginnings of a headache, and the night was only just beginning. 

\--- 

"My dear Charlotte!" 

Charlotte's heart leap in her chest. Could Lady Susan recognise her? She was smiling in such a fond way! 

"It is so good to see you again," Lady Susan went on. 

"You must be surprised to see me back in Sanditon," Charlotte said. "I'm sorry I did not tell you I was returning." 

It was then that Lady Susan smiled a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, and Charlotte's heart sank. 

"My dear," Lady Susan said, looking at her as though she were a thousand puzzle pieces, "you see, I…" 

Charlotte waited. Her friend offered her her arm, and they walked in silence to the room where Charlotte had first met her before she went on, "I _know_ we know each other. I _know_ I know you. I just cannot remember any of the details - you must think me quite rude-" 

Opening her mouth to protest the opposite, Charlotte was beaten to it - Lady Susan was not done talking. "And it's not as if our time together never happened… it's as if there is a grey fog covering my memories of us. It is most troubling." She looked at Charlotte fully. "Please, do fill me in on all I have missed." 

In that instant Charlotte felt as if she could tell Lady Susan anything - so, taking a seat and gesturing to her friend to do the same, she did.

"Oh, my," Lady Susan said when she had finished. "It must be most distressing for you, Charlotte, to have made all these connections and find them vanished into thin air! I do wonder…" A frown danced across her face. "I shall keep you in the forefront of my mind, and if I think of anything which I believe could offer you a solution or some comfort I shall let you know with the utmost urgency." 

Charlotte smiled and thanked her profusely, seeing out the corner of her eye as she did so Sidney walk into the room. 

He looked quite pale, bowing to Lady Susan in a distant way. 

"You may think me utterly absurd, Miss Heywood," he began, "but what colour would you say your shoes were?" 

She glanced back down at them. They were the same murky, iridescent haze as when she had first put them on her feet. 

"Their colour is hard to determine," she told him. "I have been told that they are red."

He was silent a moment. "You are indeed the talk of the ball in your red shoes." A pause, a long long pause. "But to me, they are blue." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you for all your comments, kudos and follows so far! it really means a lot <33
> 
> we can now talk on twitter - I'm @andeverybodyoh :)) thank you to everyone who replied yesterday telling me about twitter and facebook - I may join the latter at a later date!


	8. Scandal! at the Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes that title is an attempt at a Panic! reference... 
> 
> thanks for all your support so far! this chapter is a short one but it might just make you gasp out loud...

Charlotte found she could not speak, but he did not seem to mind. Glancing at Lady Susan (who had procured a book and was resolutely not looking at either of them), Sidney touched Charlotte’s arm and said,

“Miss Heywood - shall we dance?” 

\---

They danced two dances, touches lingering, mouths murmuring too close to ears. They cared not a damn. There was much to speak about - too much, perhaps, for they said little more about Sidney’s dreams or Charlotte’s memories, and instead got to know each other’s interests, talking for some time about a novel that had gripped both of them ( _Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus_ \- Sidney was surprised Charlotte had “been allowed” to read it, a comment she swiftly and mercilessly made fun of). 

As soon as the second dance was over she longed for a third, but that would practically be paramount to an offer of marriage! 

_Perhaps he_ will _want to marry me in time,_ she thought, and then: _perhaps I could cease looking into why I’m here. In this world, or this dream -_ in this place, _Sidney loves me. Shouldn’t that be enough?_

She danced with some Lord or other, and then a man who made £10,000 a year and said not one word to her. Charlotte cared not. All her thoughts were filled with Sidney. When the second dance had finished, she peered around the room to find him, and- 

He was talking to Eliza. 

She felt herself grow hot and pale at once. The temptation to flee and read a book away from it all like Lady Susan was almost too much - but she had to see if _this_ Eliza was also a threat to her and Sidney’s happiness. She could find out if she had given money to fund the restoration of Sanditon. 

Her feet in its iridescently colourless/ red/ blue shoes trudged over to them. 

Sidney’s face lit up upon seeing her, and she knew Eliza was watching like a hawk. Charlotte almost felt pity for her. 

“Eliza,” Sidney said, “this is Mrs Parker-” 

His eyes widened, the ladies’ eyes widened, and all hell broke loose. 

\--- 

In truth, hell broke loose _slowly_. 

Eliza sipped at her drink - Charlotte thought privately that she practically downed the thing (yet who could blame her?). 

“ _Mrs Parker?_ ” Eliza said, and it sounded like poison in her mouth. 

Sidney stuttered. Charlotte had to step in- 

“I am Miss Heywood, Mrs Campion,” she said. “S- Mr. Parker-” 

“My dreams,” Sidney muttered, looking at her both apologetically and so lovingly that it took her breath away. “That’s what I call you in my dreams…” 

Eliza sniffed. “I’m very happy for you both.” 

_She sure sounds it!_ Charlotte thought. 

“When’s the wedding?” 

“I- I misspoke, really,” Sidney managed, trying to recover. “We are not to be married - yet.” 

Charlotte’s heart danced a waltz.

Regarding him coolly, Eliza said, “You don’t need to lie to me, Sidney. Whatever we had so long ago - it was never really love, was it?”

Charlotte watched as Sidney looked as if she had just slapped him. Before she could stop herself, she grabbed his hand. 

“What he has with me is the purest love there has ever been,” she hissed, quite unlike herself.

Sidney coloured, and Charlotte felt the panic rise- 

“Miss Heywood is quite correct,” Sidney said after a pause, enunciating her name and squeezing her hand. 

Eliza studied him for a minute, glared at Charlotte, and then she was gone without another word. 

\---

Two days went by without a single word or look from Sidney. Charlotte feared it - _he_ \- was driving her quite mad. 

She played with the Parker children, and listened to Tom’s schemes and ideas, and walked with Mary, and visited Lady Denham and the Babingtons, all in a daze. 

And then she was sitting down to lunch on the third day, resigned to the fact that Sidney may never want to see her again, when Mary announced that there was a Mr. Stringer wanting to see her. 

“It’s my father, Miss Heywood,” he said, anxiously picking at a thread on his shirt. “He has talked of little else but you - oh, but I know he gave you quite the fright!” 

Charlotte assured him that it was alright - given the most recent events, Isaac Stringer had quite been pushed to the back of her mind. 

“If you could just let him babble at you for a minute or two, I’m sorry but I’m really at my wit’s end…” 

She agreed, wondering what Isaac Stringer would say to her next. 

  
  
  



	9. The Boundaries of the Infinite Worlds' Horizons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from a quote by philosopher Giordano Bruno. I may have fallen down the research rabbit-hole this morning for this chapter...

Isaac Stringer’s gaze did not leave hers for a moment as his son urged her to make herself at home. 

“Now, Father, you will be polite to Miss Heywood here, won’t you?”

Isaac Stringer grunted. Mr. Stringer clearly took it as affirmation. 

“You wished to speak with me?” Charlotte said, sitting down and trying to smile but feeling like an animal trapped by his stare. 

Stringer Sr., unsteadily, got to his feet, went into another room, and came back with a book. 

Mr. Stringer groaned. “Father, Miss Heywood has no interest in-” 

“I am _most_ interested,” Charlotte said, a little sharply she had to admit, as Isaac Stringer found the page he wanted and handed the book to her. A shaking finger pointed her to the right passage, and she began to read: 

_Tis probable if Nature be Infinite, there are several kinds and sorts of those Species, Societies, or Creatures, we name _Worlds_; which may be so different from the Frame, Form, Species, and Properties of this World, and the Creatures of this World, as not to be any ways like this World, or the Creatures in this World-_

“But some may say, _That is impossible: for, there can be no World,” Isaac Stringer said suddenly, and Charlotte looked and found him to be quoting a passage on the opposite page. 

“Margaret Cavendish, Miss,” Mr. Stringer said miserably. “All my life he makes fun of me for reading the odd book, and now look at him! I can’t make heads or tales of _this_ one - I really don’t know why he chose it.” 

Charlotte’s head was spinning. What she had just read - was it possible that she was in a _different world?_

Many times she had thought herself to be dreaming, or thought the carriage accident must have hurt her head, but she knew deep down that whatever this was, it had to be real- 

She then decided to take a leap: “The creature we saw on the roof of Trafalgar House - do you know why it was there?” 

Isaac Stringer stared at her a long while, and, just as his son was about to cut in, said simply, “You are in the wrong place.” 

“Father! Not this again! Miss Heywood, I am-” 

Charlotte ignored Mr. Stringer, her gaze locked on his father. “What if it’s started to feel like the right place?” 

The old man’s eyes widened. “ _You_ ,” he gasped, pointing at her, “you- you- you are in the wrong- _you are in the wrong_ -” 

It took some time to calm him down. Charlotte felt incredibly guilty, but also like she was one step closer to understanding what on earth had happened to her… 

\--- 

She was down at the beach with Mary and the children when she saw Sidney again. Mary, graciously, had not mentioned what had gone down in London - and Charlotte was not quite so naive as to believe this to be because the news had not yet spread. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mary said upon seeing him. “Come, children…” 

For Charlotte, it felt like an age for him to reach her. When he did, his expression spoke of wanting a thousand apologies. Her heart broke - it was not his fault! 

“Charlotte,” he said, at the same as her, “Sidney-” 

He blinked, and a small smile crept onto his face. “You called me ‘Sidney’.” But he soon grew grave again. “Charlotte, my behaviour at the ball-” 

She couldn’t help it, and interrupted with, “It has been your behaviour these past three days that I have struggled with!” 

He looked chagrined. “I was so sure you would never want to see me again, I… forgive me.” 

Charlotte felt herself soften. She said, gentler, “What happened at the ball - we may very well be the talk of London-” 

He winced-  
  


“-but I am sure we will overcome it!” 

He reached for her, as if wanting to touch her or take her hand, and then drew back. It hurt, but she reminded herself that they had already behaved indecently enough to last a lifetime. 

“I should marry you,” he said, and on any other occasion her heart would have sung, but- 

“I will only marry for love,” she told him, regretting it when he looked distraught, but she had to explain: “You have known me a matter of days, Sidney. Though I cannot doubt we have a connection, one that possibly spans across different worlds - can you truly say that you love me?” 

He was silent a moment. “I think I can say that I am beginning to.” 

She kept quiet, because he looked like he had more to say, and, sure enough: “When you first fell in love with me… is love supposed to- supposed to feel so _terrifying?_ ” 

A laugh bubbled out of her, and, after looking at her in shock, he laughed too. 

“Loving you feels like I am perpetually falling from a clifftop,” she told him, adding quickly to smooth over his now furrowed brow, “-that is to say, I wouldn’t change it for the world-” 

He laughed again, she followed, and they regarded each other with expressions of disbelief that the other could possibly feel as they did. 

“I have something you might like to see,” she said suddenly, thinking of Alison’s letters. “Call tomorrow - and I will also tell you what Isaac Stringer told me.” 

He opened his mouth, no doubt to ask a million questions, and she could not be “proper” any longer, silencing him with a fingertip against his lips. 

“I’m not sure I have the answers you are looking for.” A pause. “But we can figure them out together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Margaret Cavendish quoted here is from “Grounds of Natural Philosophy”, published in 1668. 
> 
> Now, this may come as a surprise, but I have very very little plan involved in terms of each chapter (though I know the ending… or will it be endings?) - so I’d like to thank Violetgirl for her fantastic theories on what Isaac Stringer would say to Charlotte, and Benben15 for expressing excitement - you both pushed me to make this chapter the best I could make it :))


	10. Doubt

Charlotte awoke early the next morning. Once again, she had dreamt of the carriage falling, falling, falling- 

No one else in the house would be up for at least an hour. Her gaze fell on Georgiana’s book, but she decided she did not want any revelations it could uncover to unsettle her before Sidney’s arrival. Instead, she simply looked out of her window, deep in thought. 

Sidney loved her - or was beginning to. That she knew. Yet… did she really love him? She loved the Sidney she had left behind. For all their instant connection, her memories, his dreams, they had not shared much of their lives to each other, save some discussion of literature at the ball. 

It was troubling. She resolved, from this moment on, to get to know the Sidney of this world, and fall for _him_. 

\---

And yet, as he came into the parlour that morning, uttering a soft, “Hello, Charlotte”, her heart grew warm - but was that because of him or his affection? 

“Something’s troubling you,” he said instantly, not bothering to check if they were alone (though they were - Tom had decided to take the whole family to the beach upon learning that his brother would call) - before taking her hands in his. 

She could not tell him. She did not think herself important enough as to be capable of something like breaking his heart, but she did not want to cause pain regardless. 

“I have some letters from my sister - from when I was last here. What do you make of them?” 

She retrieved the letters from the table as he sat down beside her. Once he was settled, his gaze went to them, and she watched him stare. 

“They look _ancient_ -”

“It makes no sense,” Charlotte decided to stupidly add, because what part of any of this made any sense? 

“Can I-” 

Nodding, she handed the letters to him. 

“I will not read them.” 

Charlotte offered him a grateful smile, but he was not looking at her, instead turning the letters over and holding them up above his face - Charlotte had done the same with no success. 

“It’s as if you have travelled through time,” he muttered in awe, after 5 minutes or so of examining them. “These letters, your shoes - is there anything else?” 

She thought of Georgiana’s book, but suddenly did not want to share knowledge of it. 

“Isaac Stringer being alive,” she said instead. 

His brow furrowed. It was then that she realised he did not know - that no one except the Stringers knew - of what she had seen on the roof of Tom’s house. 

So she told him, and then what Isaac Stringer had said when she saw him last. 

He looked grave. “That must have been quite the shock.” His jaw tightened. “And he says it is your fault, because you don’t belong? That man, I should-” 

“Please!” Charlotte interrupted, “you can’t say that he is incorrect…” 

Sidney held her gaze. One hand let go of her own and went to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Charlotte’s breath caught. 

“If it means we are together, how can it be wrong?” 

She stared at him, heart thudding- 

It was at this moment that Tom Parker’s voice carried into the room, the man himself not far behind, “Ah, Charlotte, the beach was terribly crowded, fantastic for business, of course! But too busy for the children to play, so we- _Sidney!_ ” 

Tom looked between them with what he probably imagined was a secretive glance, as Sidney subtly tried to unlink their hands. “Back again, Sidney? Have you got another ball you wish to take Charlotte to?” 

Charlotte felt her face heat, and next to her Sidney tensed. It wasn’t necessarily Tom’s tone - there was nothing in it to suggest judgement or disapproval, but the mere reminder was enough to cause embarrassment to both. 

“I was just leaving,” Sidney muttered, before turning to Charlotte. “I’ll take these with me-” he scooped up the letters- “and let you know what I find out.” He went to touch her hand, but thankfully (oh, was it thankfully?) drew back at the last second. 

Charlotte breathed in deep, and then forced a smile that quickly became genuine the longer they stared at each other. 

Tom coughed. “I do believe you said you were ‘just leaving’?” 

“Yes. I am.” And with a longing glance at Charlotte and a few strides across the room, Sidney was gone. 

Charlotte now shared an awkward glance with Tom. For him to see Sidney with her private letters, and the two of them holding hands - well, she supposed, it could not be worse than the “Mrs Parker” incident of a few days ago-

“You two are solving a mystery, hm?” Tom said, jolting her out of her thoughts. His eye sparkled. “You have grown so close in such a short space of time! Why, I haven’t seen him like this since Eliza - you do know what happened there?” 

Charlotte was forced to say that she did. 

To her surprise, Tom then took several big, Sidney-like strides and was soon sitting in the seat he had vacated. 

“My dear,” he began, and something like a ringing bell began making noise in Charlotte’s mind - an alarm signal. “Charlotte, my dear, I do know you wouldn’t - but don’t go breaking Sidney’s heart, do you hear?” 

He was as serious as she’d ever seen him. Pulling herself together from the shock of it, mind reminding her of thoughts of just minutes earlier, she got out, “I- of course I would never dream- that is to say- how do you know I love him?” 

Tom smiled. “I dare say the whole of Sanditon knows! Even before his slip of the tongue at Lady Susan’s ball you had already danced _twice_ together. And you are not so good at hiding how you feel, my dear. It is written plain across your face.”

Patting her arm, he got up to leave, only to turn around dramatically halfway across the room. 

“Ah, the reason I came to find you - Miss Lambe! She wishes to know if you’d like to embroider with her tomorrow morning. Shall I say yes?” 

Charlotte had no doubt that there would be very little “embroidering”. Perhaps Georgiana just wanted a chance to talk of Otis - perhaps Charlotte would be roped into another scheme to get them to meet. Or perhaps that was unfair. Georgiana could simply want a friend. 

“I would be delighted to see her again.” 

“Make sure you stay indoors, mind - you don’t want to be caught in any more of that awful rain! Really, Charlotte, by Miss Lambe’s account (which I heard from Sidney of course), it was like you had summoned it!" 

Charlotte managed a weak smile. At this point, nothing was extraordinary. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think will happen with Georgiana this time? :))


	11. If The Heavens Ever Did Speak...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short and possibly creepy chapter…
> 
> I’d like to thank Violetgirl and Rmhraga for inspiring me!

_Insulting his family was never to be forgiven, he decided. Even if she did have the most striking face-_

_He saw her again not long after, having had the strangest dream the night before. She was holding their smallest baby in her arms - in the dream, I must stress - looking like an angel come down to earth as their other two youngsters pestered him to play…_

_Domestic bliss. It had only been a dream, but it had caused a feeling of warmth in his breast more fiery than he thought he had ever felt…_

_A dip in the sea would help him cool off, he decided. But as he came striding out of the water, naked as the day he was born, whose eyes did he meet?_

She had decided to read more of Georgiana’s book before falling asleep. The words burning into her mind, the darkness of the night covering her like bedsheets, she reflected that this had been a poor choice-

\---

“Charlotte!” Georgiana greeted the next morning, looking very happy to see her. “I hope you are well?”  
  


Charlotte replied that she was, if a little tired, and asked after Georgiana’s own health - her friend had caught a slight cold from their time in the rain, but nothing that was cause for concern. 

“So, you wished to embroider with me?” Charlotte asked, once they were in Georgiana’s room, and received a wicked grin in return. 

“You’ve seen straight through,” Georgiana commented, and then walked to her bookshelf and peered at the spines. 

Charlotte’s heart started racing at the thought of another book. Tentatively she asked, “Where did you get that book you lent me? It is most interesting…” 

“Ah, here it is!” Georgiana declared, seeming not to hear, and Charlotte watched in disbelief as she took down a Bible. 

“I wrote to the vicar from my town in Antigua,” Georgiana said, sitting down on the bed and flicking through the pages. “He said you might find comfort in this…” 

Charlotte took the Bible from her and stared at two lines that had been circled in pencil: 

**_Acts 17:26_ ** _And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place,_

“You appear to have gone between boundaries,” Georgiana said. “I do wonder how….”

It was then that Charlotte remembered that she had not told Georgiana _anything_ about her last time in Sanditon, or how she knew everyone but they did not know her… 

Feeling slightly sick, she went to close the Bible, and a note fluttered out. Charlotte picked it up, the first line catching her interest without her meaning to pry: 

_You have quite the gift, my dear. There has not been a seer with your skill in generations…_

“ _You will go back_ ,” Georgiana said, in a voice that didn’t sound like hers at all. Charlotte glanced at her- 

Her eyes were completely white. Charlotte bit her lip to stop from crying out, and the blood tasted sour-

Georgiana continued, body limp, head tilted, _“He will disappoint you, and you will go back… but_ is it what you want? _Because it’s him, isn’t it? He is at the center of all this-”_

Unable to take it any longer, something wild overcame Charlotte, and she gave Georgiana a hard shove- 

Her friend fell from the bed, her eyes closing- 

After terrible terrible silent minutes, Georgiana sat up, blinking. Her eyes were back to normal. 

“Something always happens when we get together,” she grumbled, gingerly touching the back of her head and sounding just like herself, and Charlotte was so relieved that she burst into tears.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE hearing all your theories/ what you think or hope will happen next, so please share if you want to! :))


	12. - Just For A Second - That's Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter’s title is taken from the Doctor Who episode “The Family Of Blood”, and inspiration for the scene with Arthur and Diana is from the episode “The Eleventh Hour”. I do love me some Doctor Who! 
> 
> a creepy one, this, but it starts out soft...

She came down to breakfast the next day to a letter from Sidney. Ignoring Tom and Mary’s knowing looks, she opened it to read the first line: 

_Dearest Charlotte, please read what you are about to learn in private-_

She all but ran upstairs, collapsing out of breath on her bed eager to take in more: 

_I dreamt of our children last night. Their names did not make it into wakefulness, but I am sure the names we chose were perfect. Let me tell you about our children, if you’ll allow it - if not, simply put this letter down and I shall know from your look and never speak a word of it. Now…_

_The eldest is a girl with hair (and eyes, and an entire being) as beautiful as yours. She has her mother’s disposition for speaking her mind, and also my stubbornness - quite the combination! We tried to get her to leave the beach for supper, with little success, until you came up with the genius idea of waving goodbye to the waves and the sand - correctly assuming she didn’t want the beach to miss her._

_Even in dreams you astound me, Charlotte. Though I do not know why this surprises me._

_Our middle child, a boy, is shy and thoughtful, collecting seashells on the beach as a gift for you. He cried when the saltwater got in his eyes, but a hug from me and a kiss from you and he was soon right as rain._

_The twins are but months old, and when you held them in your arms after we returned from the beach… I am overcome with emotion just writing this, excuse me..._

_Is it strange that I view this dream as among my fondest of memories, though it is not real in the slightest? I know I mentioned to you a theory that I could be seeing the future. Now more than ever I hope I am correct._

_This is the life I want with you, Charlotte, if you’ll have me._

_Yours (for ever),_

_Sidney_

A tear dripped onto the letters of his name. Charlotte sniffed. How could she not love this man?

\---

“Miss Heywood!” Arthur said, upon Charlotte coming downstairs having been told of his arrival - and he was so far from his usual jolly self that Charlotte was certain that someone had died- 

“Diana and I could use your help.” 

\--- 

Diana, too, looked haunted and pale. “It’s probably nothing,” she said, as the three of them sat down to tea, and Arthur was quick to chime in in agreement. 

This, more than anything, caused dread to settle at the bottom of Charlotte’s stomach. Arthur and Diana made mountains out of the smallest molehills - to downplay whatever it was… She swallowed, and said in what she hoped was a level voice, “Whatever is the matter?”

Brother and sister shared a look. “The mirror,” they said together. 

“Is it broken?” Even as she said it she knew it was unlikely to be the problem, but she didn’t want to worry them by panicking herself. 

“It’s something you see out of the corner of your eye,” Diana said quietly, the teacup she was holding rattling in its saucer. “The more you try and see it - and you don’t want to look, but you can’t tear your eyes away! - the more you look, the more it blurs, until suddenly-” 

Her face crumpled, and she began to sob. 

“Diana, dear, Charlotte will make it right,” Arthur soothed, taking the teacup from her and patting her hand. 

Charlotte was almost rooted to the spot in fear, but she forced a smile. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

_Be brave, Charlotte_ , she told herself. _It cannot be worse than the Thing on the roof...._

\---

Yet at the sight of the mirror her blood went cold. 

Diana had been right - so far, Charlotte could not see a thing that was amiss. It was just a feeling… 

Her grandmother used to comment whenever a cold breeze made her shiver that someone was walking over her grave. Charlotte now knew exactly what she meant. 

“What exactly did you see in the mirror?” she asked, taking a hesitant step closer. It was a large mirror, in Diana’s bathroom, taking up the length of one wall. The frame looked weighty, but Charlotte was struck with the sudden notion that the glass could crack into a thousand pieces at any second. 

“What did we see?” Arthur echoed, and suddenly averted his gaze. “Why, I can’t put my finger on it…” 

_You’re lying_ , Charlotte thought to herself. _Why would you lie?_

She thought back to Diana’s words, and told herself she was just looking at her hair in the mirror. 

It didn’t work - but out of the corner of her eye… 

“Oh, Miss Heywood,” Diana piped up, “you do look _most_ pale-” 

Charlotte’s eyes shot back to her reflection, and it was then that she saw it: 

She didn’t want to see it, and maybe she didn’t, maybe it was all a trick of the light, burning into her brain- 

She couldn’t suck in enough air, but somehow her breath was steaming up the glass, but it couldn’t obscure- 

Stumbling backwards, she tripped over her own feet and fell hard on the floor. Distantly she heard both Parkers say her name, felt them rush over- 

“Charlotte, my dear - you saw it too?” 

“Oh, Miss Heywood! We never should have…” 

Their voices talked over each other. Charlotte’s head swam. 

“Well, my dear,” Arthur said to his sister once they had helped Charlotte to her feet, in a tone practically breaking under the weight of trying to see the bright side, “we know it is not just us…” 

\--- 

“You saw _me_ , didn’t you?” Charlotte said, in a voice so faint it barely sounded like her own. She had been plied with biscuits “to restore her health”, and urged to lie down on the sofa, but had refused both. What she had seen was still seared into her mind. 

“Charlotte-” Diana began, but Arthur got there first: 

“That spectre in the mirror _cannot be you,_ Miss Heywood,” he said in a firm voice, but she knew him again to be lying- 

  
  


It _had_ been her in that looking glass - she didn’t need another look to know for certain. “This” Charlotte had dull, horrible, beetle-like eyes, a bloated, pallid face, seemed to stare right into your soul, but as much as she wanted to distance herself from her form in the mirror, there was no mistaking… 

“You looked _dead_ ,” Diana blurted out, her eyes clearly reliving what she’d seen. “Dead woman walking…” she whispered. 

“Diana!” Arthur exclaimed. “ _It wasn’t Charlotte_.” 

His voice was so loud that the ladies were stunned into silence. “Sorry,” he said, quieter, “but it really wasn’t Miss Heywood, Diana...” 

\---

Charlotte flinched at the sight of her own mirror when she returned to her room. After a second’s deliberation, she covered it with her bedsheet, and found she could breathe again. 

What was it, another demon? A bad omen? 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. She wished she could share in Sidney’s dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be tying up some ends/ solving some puzzles in the next few chapters :)) 
> 
> as always I adore your comments! <33


	13. Return?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Took a couple of days to get refreshed :)) I’m sorry to hear that many of you were confused by the mirror scene in the last chapter - I’ll try and make things clearer and easier to understand in the future! The summary of it is that Charlotte saw herself in Diana’s mirror, dead. Creepy, right? The mirror will come up in a later chapter but it isn’t super important right now, so if it went over your head it won’t spoil this chapter. 
> 
> And speaking of this chapter… well, don’t hate me…

“What’s on your mind?” 

His words were nearly carried away by the sea breeze. Charlotte turned, took in his look of concern, and swiftly stared straight ahead once more. 

She hadn’t told him about the mirror. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t believe her - it wasn’t that at all. But he already struggled to sleep and new worry would only make things worse. 

Maybe she had avoided telling him so she could pretend it had been a dream-

“This is all a bad dream,” she blurted out, surprising herself, and she felt Sidney’s hand on her shoulder and turned towards him again. His eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. _He has three looks_ , she thought to herself, with surprising anger. _“Confused”, “concerned”, and “hopelessly in love”._

“You don’t know me,” she said, curt, again surprising herself. She felt like this was the start of something she shouldn’t finish, but her mind was like a thick jungle of plants and speaking her mind was the only way to clear a path. 

“Charlotte-” he began, but she shook his hand off her shoulder and felt herself get even angrier. 

“You don’t know me, Sidney. This love… is it natural?” 

He blinked, and then his expression morphed into one she’d seen before - on the other Sidney. A look that was a combination of hurt and anger. 

“What?” So much emotion in one word, and she should stop, oh, she should really stop-

“Is something controlling you, forcing you to love me?” 

And she knew straight away from his expression that her theory was false, but still doubt was eating away at her flesh- 

“Because you don’t know me, Sidney. You-” She took a breath then, and he went to reach out to her, but something in her eyes must have flashed because he drew back. “You pictured our children, but I think you’re so in love you don’t even know _why_ you love me…” 

She took more steps across the sand to avoid his gaze, her steps quickening until he had to shout to be heard: 

“I was drawn to you, Charlotte! Isn’t that enough?” 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, ridiculous tears. Wasn’t this what she’d always wanted, for him to love her? 

_He will disappoint you._ Georgiana’s words rebounded in her head. _He will disappoint you, and you will go back…_

She was heading in the right direction for the cliffs. He called her name as she began to run- 

\---

It looked as if it would rain again as Charlotte reached the clifftop. Perhaps it was just the weather, perhaps Tom was right, and she was the cause… what did it matter, in the end? 

Getting up here had depleted most of her energy, but she forced herself to move at as fast a pace as she could manage, as that spot where the carriage fell came into view once more- 

She felt the spectre’s presence before she saw it: like a chill and a fever all at once. 

It had a wicked mouth, and looked like a misted nightmare. 

_You want to go back?_

She felt tears well up again. “Please,” she sobbed, “yes, take me back-” 

_It is your choice to make. When it is time._

She stared through her tears. _I want to go back_ , she thought to herself, closing her eyes and praying - _take me back, take me back, please, take me back-_

_You do not go back now. It is not time._

“But you said I had a choice!” She’d never shouted so loud, opening her eyes to see the spectre looking at her with what could only be described as _pity_. She hated it, and Sidney, and Sanditon, and she wished she’d- 

_No more wishes. Your time will come. Now sleep._

She tried to stay awake, she really did.

When she awoke, she was in her room in Trafalgar House, and couldn’t say for sure if she’d dreamed the entire day. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to my friend theintelligenthufflepuff for coming up with the idea of "Charlotte's choice" <333 
> 
> I hope Charlotte's reaction to Sidney makes sense here. These past couple of days I've been going through the story in my mind thinking "God - he's perfect, isn't he? It's almost dull" so I started wondering, what if Charlotte's dissatisfied too... He's not the Sidney she fell for.


	14. Ester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're reaching the middle of the story now! thanks for sticking with me <33

Two letters came at breakfast the next day. Charlotte opened the first, which had Alison’s handwriting, with expectations of a riddle like her father’s, but all it read was: 

_Charlotte - you are now so far away! You must try and get closer. We all miss you so very much!_

_But I can’t go back_ , she thought to herself. _I want to - but it’s “not the right time”..._

She resolved then and there to make her stay in _this_ Sanditon as enjoyable as possible. If she was stuck here then she was going to make the most of it. 

The second letter was from Ester Babington: 

_What do you say to afternoon tea at The Crown hotel? 3pm. I’ll be waiting x_

Charlotte didn’t know what Ester wanted, but she prayed that it would have no ill effects. 

\---

Ester got straight to the point, beginning to speak before Charlotte was even fully in earshot: 

“I have to leave this place, Miss Heywood.” Her gaze was solemn. 

Charlotte, for one wild second, entertained the idea that Ester had somehow fallen into this world just like she had - but no, that was pure fantasy, surely...

“I thought you were happy living with Lord Babington? He has such a beautiful home,” she said carefully. 

Ester’s expression twisted into one of remembered irritation. “This place sticks to me like the sand of its beaches. I need to go somewhere fresh.” Charlotte could only hopelessly stay locked in her stare as she went on, “And I thought you would be the perfect travelling companion.” 

“I know,” she continued, when Charlotte made to open her mouth, “that we have not been exactly ‘friends’.” She lowered her eyes then, and Charlotte went to protest but found that Ester was not, in truth, incorrect. 

“I’d love to come with you,” Charlotte blurted out, before her mind had even finished deciding it. 

She got an amused, raised brow in response. “I haven’t even said where we’d be going.” 

“It doesn’t matter - I have to get away, too.” She thought of Sidney on the beach, Sidney at the ball, Sidney’s last letter… “ _I have to get away too,_ ” she repeated. 

Ester sipped her tea. “Very well. We will leave to be back in time for the carnival-” (the last word was accompanied by an eye roll) “-on my dear husband’s request… and, for the record, I have now decided to keep our destination a surprise, if that suits you?” 

Charlotte replied that it did, they drank more tea, and conversation turned to all the women at Lady Susan’s ball that Ester very much openly disliked, and her (many) reasons as to why. 

_Some time away will do me good_ , Charlotte thought, as she walked back to Trafalgar House. Then, more firmly: _It will do me good. It has to..._

_\---_

“My brother says he knows you won’t want to see him, but he wishes you well on your trip and-” Tom, who had up until this point simply been looking like he was plotting something, now looked positively gleeful, “-he also wishes you to know that he is thinking of you, always and forever.” 

Charlotte stared, the clothes she was packing going floppy in her grip. For Sidney to admit such sentiments to Tom, so openly- 

She closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she would be travelling some distance from him, and it was distance she needed. Sometimes he made her dizzy with affection, others she felt smothered and like, as she’d told him so strongly, like he didn’t know her at all. 

She opened her eyes. Tom was now looking concerned. “Tell your brother that I am sorting out my head,” she told him, attempting to do so brightly, “and that I hope things will be clearer when I return.” 

The sparkle gone from his eye, Tom nodded, and then said, “I know Sidney can- I know this has all come on very sudden-” He stopped himself. “I’ll pass on your message,” he said simply. “We’ll _all_ miss you, Charlotte.” 

A sudden thought struck her the second Tom left, his parting comment still on her mind: what if she returned to Sanditon from her trip with Ester to find they had all forgotten her again? 

_I could go round and round and round…_

She shook her head. It did no good to worry yourself sick over “perhapses”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of maybe doing a oneshot from Sidney's POV - anyone interested? :))


End file.
